


Break Me Down

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-07
Updated: 2010-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel and Sam both have reasons not to trust themselves…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Me Down

It’s not often that Gabriel gets hit with a solid dose of reality. But this, here, is enough to leave him breathless and gasping in the aftereffects of revelation.

A few things happen in rapid-fire order.

Sam Winchester firmly, _vehemently_ , says ‘no’ to a feast of demon blood and power, and in that moment, Gabriel realizes that he is nothing like Lucifer ever was or ever could be.

Sam Winchester raises a hand and with nothing more than the force of his thoughts, destroys Famine, a being so powerful a whole Host of angels would have trouble taking him out, and Gabriel understands that despite the hunter’s best intentions, he still has more power than he knows how to handle.

Sam Winchester falls to his knees and begs his brother to lock him up, and Gabriel comprehends that he will _never_ say yes to Lucifer as long as his sanity remains intact.

But before any of these things happen, Sam Winchester walks into the ravaged diner, and Famine looks to where Gabriel stands hidden from angel, demon, and hunter alike, a smirk twisting his haggard features, and Gabriel suddenly, desperately, wildly _craves_.

~*~

The very moment Famine is made powerless, Gabriel vanishes, fighting for breath he does not need and feeling broken open in ways he cannot think about. He has no home, not really, so he retreats to a safe haven – the open, empty, blazing Sahara desert. The violent, fervent _need_ he felt is gone, but it does nothing to tamp down the desire, now that he’s aware it exists, and for three days he stands and stares up at the sky, waiting for answers to questions he can’t put words to.

None are forthcoming, and of course he’s unsurprised, but the disappointment still bites deep.

He can _feel_ Sam inside him now, can feel his grace being pulled by an invisible thread to the hunter, and can feel his will to stay away crumble with every passing moment until finally, he can’t do anything but give into it. With little more than a thought, he goes to where he knows Sam will be.

~*~

The panic room is dimly lit and dismal-looking, and the Trickster part of Gabriel, the side of him used to snapping his fingers and getting whatever he wants, longs to change it, make it more comfortable, but he refrains, aware that his presence needs to go unnoticed.

He stretches his senses, feels Dean and Castiel outside, speaking quietly. By the way their moods shift and twist and bounce around, it’s a fair bet they won’t be back to keeping a vigilant watch over Sam anytime soon, though they must have been up to this point. Either way, it’s perfect for him.

The hunter is sleeping. Gabriel can tell he’s over the very worst of his ordeal, but it will still be some time before he’s a hundred percent again. He’s hit with a wave of sympathy, because he _saw_ what Sam did, watched him resist Lucifer’s plan against all odds, and it seems desperately unfair that he still has to suffer for it. Even in his sleep, Sam is trembling and sweating and moaning, his hands straining faintly against the bonds keeping him tied down on the small cot.

Gabriel shifts closer, wanting to touch, _needing_ to, even as he wonders if it may destroy him utterly. Sam quiets at the first brush of fingertips against his forehead, the tense lines on his face easing out as he sighs softly. Even the trembling eases off some, and Gabriel thrills at the knowledge that it’s _his_ touch that soothes the hunter, _his_ touch that keeps the pain at bay. His hand trails down soft skin, fingers curling around the shell of Sam’s ear, then threading into his too-long, sweat-soaked hair.

Slowly, _so damn slowly_ , Sam’s eyes open, hazy and confused and red from sleep-deprivation, but still beautiful. Always so beautiful, and Gabriel wonders why he never realized just how much he adored looking into Sam’s eyes before Famine came along. Sam blinks at him a few times. “You’re not real,” he murmurs, his words slurred and his voice raw from screaming.

“Sure I am,” Gabriel says with a half-smirk that may be trying hard not to be a soft smile.

“Can’t be real. Trickster hates me, wants me t’go an’ say yes, an’ I won’t. I _won’t_.”

Gabriel presses a finger to Sam’s mouth to quiet him. “Shh, I know Sam.”

“So you can’t…you can’t be…” Sam tapers off, his eyes slipping closed again and then clenching as his body jerks and spasms, another effect of the withdrawal. One of the last, hopefully, but it’s still enough to make Gabriel want to act before he considers the consequences, a habit he’s clearly grown too used to over the course of hundreds of years playing at being a pagan god. He can’t get _rid_ of the intensity of what Sam’s going through, can’t simply burn the demon blood out and have them all sing merrily down the lane…but he can _change_ it, make it less painful and more…something else.

If it just so happens to work in his favor, well. At least he was only trying to help.

He scoffs internally at his own blatant attempt to lie to himself.

Sam gives a broken cry, and Gabriel runs a hand through the hunter's hair again, forces himself to ask before acting. "I can make it better Sam. Make the pain into something more manageable."

“Won't say yes. I won't say yes!"

"I know," Gabriel soothes. "I don't want you to. Let me do this for you, no strings. I promise."

Sam looks as though he wants to say something, but he’s having trouble through the violent wracking of his body. He does manage, after a few long moments, a very quiet, "Please..."

It’s enough. Gabriel doesn’t know what Sam is pleading for, knows it could be for him to leave just much as it could be for his help, but he doesn’t allow himself to think about it beyond that as he presses two fingers to Sam's forehead. And then the hunter is no longer in pain, no longer trembling and feverish. A long, desperate moan fills the air, and now Gabriel has to decide what he’s going to do about _this_.

He realizes rather abruptly that Sam is still going to believe he’s nothing more than a hallucination brought on by the withdrawal until it starts to clear from his system entirely.

The thought doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it should.

Sam’s eyes are open again, and now there’s nothing except lust in those hazel depths, no pain, no confusion, not even any true awareness, really. Just sheer, burning _want_ , and Gabriel can’t resist, doesn’t have the power to even try to. Archangel or not, he’s spent too long locking that part of himself away, and it’s not going to stop him now from taking what he wants, what’s so freely offered to him in that shattered gaze.

He places his hands on either side of the cot, a few inches from Sam's head, and leans down until he’s breathing the same air as the hunter. "I know you don't believe this is real, Sam, and that's okay. But you need to tell me right now if you don't want this." Even the burning need that has substituted the pain won’t be enough to make Sam do something he truly abhors the thought of, and Gabriel has no real idea how the hunter normally feels about him, aside from being resentful of what the Trickster has done to him and Dean in the past.

But Sam is looking up at him now with pure desire shining in those big puppy-ish eyes, and making little whimpering sounds that eventually turn into words: "Please. So alone here. Want..."

He breaks off before he can complete the sentence, closes his eyes and thrashes his head to the side, the sensations battling inside him too much to handle, but it’s enough for Gabriel.

His fingers graze along the restraints at Sam’s wrists, keeping his arms pinned to his sides. “Well, let’s change these first,” he murmurs. “Make things a little bit easier if they’re out of the way, don’t you agree?” The cuffs attached to the bed frame click open, but before Sam can so much as twitch, Gabriel has already re-secured them to the frame at the top of the bed, so the hunter’s arms are now locked tight above his head.

Sam’s eyes are wide, his mouth open on a wordless exclamation as he tugs uselessly at the cuffs. Gabriel smirks and moves gracefully onto the cot, sliding in between Sam’s legs as he gazes down in silent contemplation. “Where to start,” he wonders aloud, grin widening as Sam _whimpers_. “Patience, Sammy,” he says, placing a finger against the hunter’s lips. “We’ve got time.”

He leans down, hesitates for the barest fraction of a second, and then presses his mouth to Sam’s, swallowing the sound the hunter makes with a hungry kiss. Sam’s mouth opens in shock, and Gabriel’s tongue darts out, licking and exploring and twining with Sam’s and teasing it back into his own mouth. The sounds Sam makes go straight through him, and he shifts, rolling his hips down experimentally.

The fact that Sam is already hard beneath him fills him with something he can’t put words to, but that feels almost like ecstasy. The frantic hunger that Famine had sparked is returning now tenfold, and there’s nothing stopping him from giving in to it.

Sam bucks, desperate for more, and Gabriel pulls away, nipping gently at the hunter's bottom lip in chastisement. The whine Sam releases is high and needy and sets everything inside Gabriel on fire. He licks a stripe along Sam's neck, bites gently at the soft flesh, revels in the hunter squirming underneath him.

He strokes a finger down Sam’s shirt, and it shimmers, dissolving off of his body entirely. The tattoo, stark against Sam’s skin, draws his attention, and he stares at it for a long moment before leaning back down and pressing his mouth to it, sucking and licking greedily. One hand curls around Sam’s body, clutching possessively, and the other trails down to Sam’s hip while he works at the tattoo. At a touch, the pants Sam wears dissolve as well.

The hunter keens, high and desperate, and Gabriel’s mouth moves down to a dusky nipple, which he lavishes with the same amount of attention until it pebbles in his mouth. He nips at it, rocking into Sam again, who thrusts up to meet him as though he can’t help himself. This time, Gabriel doesn’t stop him, just grins and moves to the other nipple.

“Gabriel… _Gabriel!_ ” Sam cries, unable to say anything except his name, and damn if that doesn’t make the archangel wild with the need curling inside him. He slides down Sam’s body and sits perched at the bottom of the cot for a moment, contemplating the restraints at Sam’s feet. With a quick touch, they click open, and he moves back up until he’s leaning over Sam again and kissing him.

Then he works his way back down slowly, tasting his way down Sam’s neck, his chest, his stomach. He nuzzles at a spot just below Sam’s navel while his hands move to the hunter’s hips. He hooks his thumbs into the elastic of Sam’s boxers, and the hunter takes the hint, lifting himself up just enough for Gabriel to slide them down his legs and off. And then Sam is gloriously naked below him, hard and aching and _desperate_ for it.

With a wicked smile, Gabriel drinks in the sight before him. Sam shifts restlessly, a tiny sound escaping him that the archangel delights in. “Want it bad, don’t you Sammy?” he murmurs, drawing a hand up along Sam’s leg, moving to tease the area around Sam’s cock but never touching where Sam _wants_ him to touch.

“ _Gabriel,_ ” Sam pleads, trying to shift himself into Gabriel’s hand.

The archangel leans down, his breath ghosting around Sam’s ear. “Beg me,” he demands.

“ _Please!_ ” Sam cries. “Please, Gabriel! Fuck me, God, _please!_ ”

A shudder runs through him, and Gabriel nods. “Your wish…my command,” he murmurs, sucking gently on the earlobe before pulling away with a small smirk. He goes to spread Sam’s legs, to push his knees up, but Sam moves to do so before he can, and God, he’s so _ready_ for it that Gabriel has to stop for a moment and just gaze down at the hunter in awe.

“Now…please?” Sam asks, making it a question. His eyes plead, wide and hungry and wanting. And clear…clearer than they were, at least a little, and Gabriel knows what that means, but he ignores it, because Sam clearly still wants this.

With a snap of his fingers, the archangel acquiesces to Sam’s request, a bottle of oil appearing in his hand even as his own clothes finally vanish. He dribbles some into his hand, watches the hunter’s eyes darken and his mouth slacken and then he’s leaning over him again, bracing himself on one hand, kissing Sam as the other moves between Sam’s legs and his fingers search out his entrance.

He bites down hard on Sam’s lip as he pushes one finger inside, and swallows his cry as Sam presses down, presses deeper onto the intrusion. Gabriel works the second finger in as his tongue is exploring Sam’s mouth, and the third when he has pulled away to place suckling kisses along his neck.

By now, Sam is making the most wanton sounds Gabriel’s ever heard, and pressing down on his hand like he can’t possibly do anything else, and Gabriel groans as he pulls out, kissing Sam long and hard and deep before pulling back and searching Sam’s eyes with his own. He hovers over the hunter, and his eyes flash with grace in the intensity in the moment. Sam's own hazel ones widen.

"Gabriel," he breathes. The archangel knows with startling clarity that this moment is suddenly completely real to him, the spell the demon blood and Gabriel's own power had woven around him broken.

"If you're going to back out, Sam, now is your last chance," he growls, eyes flashing again. "Tell me now."

Sam's eyes, wide and disbelieving, search his for a moment that stretches unbearably. "Do it," he breathes, finally, and Gabriel plunges.

Their twin cries ring out, Sam's low voice mingling with Gabriel's higher one as the archangel slides in in one smooth glide. Warmth surrounds him, Sam somehow filling him in essence as he fills Sam in body, and it’s overwhelming, how much he can feel. He knows he won’t last long like this, and he shudders out a breath at how much he’s affected by the man beneath him.

Sam's hands thrash at the restraints above his head. The chains clang against the bed's rails, but he’s stuck, and Gabriel bends his head and trails more kisses along his neck, pausing at the juncture of his shoulder to bite down hard enough to sting but not to bleed, listening with satisfaction as Sam screams.

In payback, Sam takes what little control he does have and wraps his legs around Gabriel, hooking his ankles together, pulling the archangel as deep as he can go. Now it’s Gabriel's turn to make those helpless noises, and as they rock together, he can see the effect they’re having on Sam. He closes his eyes and thrusts harder, turning the tables again on the hunter. Sam cries out, arches his back at an impossible angle, and Gabriel can’t hold back anymore. He buries his face in the hunter’s shoulder, comes in a wave of fierce ecstasy, spilling deep inside him. Owning him, _claiming_ him from the inside out, and it’s only a few moments before Sam follows him over the edge.

They lay together for long moments, trembling in the aftermath, and Gabriel can’t help but kiss Sam one more time as he slowly pulls out. His hand moves, tracing the curve of Sam’s body, trailing up his arm, and touching his wrists gently. The metal cuffs open with a faint clicking sound, and they clatter to the floor. Immediately, Sam’s arms come around him, holding him tightly as they gasp into each other’s mouths.

And then it’s too much, and everything catches up with Gabriel in a moment of overwhelming guilt, and he pulls away without so much as looking Sam in the eyes. “You’re clean now,” he murmurs, snapping his fingers and clothing both himself and the hunter with minimal effort. “And I have things to do.”

“Gabriel, wait -” Sam says, sitting up.

But the archangel is already gone.

~*~

Something about what has passed between them has linked Sam to Gabriel, and now it’s impossible for the archangel to shut his voice out. Every day, Sam calls for him. Every day, Sam begs and pleads and entices and barters and _prays_ , and Gabriel has to force himself not to fly immediately to his side. He has to remind himself that if he goes to Sam, he’ll want to take him and claim him and own him, and he _can’t_.

Despite his withdrawal from the demon blood being over, despite the fact that it should be out of his system, there’s something wild, some type of lingering darkness inside Sam Winchester, and all Gabriel wants is to _tame him_.

But he knows that if he does, if he takes that step, there will be no turning back from it later. He won’t do that, not to himself and _especially_ not to Sam.

Still, when one week of avoiding the hunter turns into two, and two into three, and his voice still breaks into Gabriel’s mind at all hours of the day and night, it becomes harder and harder to ignore

_Gabriel. Please, come back. I want you._

Even in his head, there’s something different about Sam’s voice now, and every day it gets a little more intense, a little more manipulative. Still quintessentially _Sam_ , but with an edge to it that Gabriel, in his long years of watching the Winchester brothers, has never heard before.

He’s beginning to think that Sam took too much this time, and whatever force saved him from the demon blood the first time around clearly isn’t coming back, won’t be burning it out of him and shoving him onto any more airplanes this time. Which means in theory, whatever darkness Sam has inside of him now isn’t going anywhere.

_Gabriel. Where are you? Please, help me._

Gabriel goes.

~*~

Sam blinks, and for just a moment, his eyes are black before they swirl back to hazel. To _normal_. Gabriel leans back in the chair across from him in the diner and folds his arms with a sigh. “It was the blood, kid, you know that.”

“But it’s gone. It should be gone. I don’t…” Sam swallows, and his knuckles are white where he’s clenching his fist on the table.

“It’s gone, but Sam, c’mon, you know the answer to this, I know you do. It’s not the blood _anymore_ , it’s what it did to you. What it unlocked. No miracle to save you this time, and it had its chance to finish the job. You should just count yourself lucky that you didn’t drink enough to really go dark-side.”

“I feel…” Sam can’t finish.

“Powerful?” Gabriel fills in the blank, and by the flinch, he knows he’s right. “More so because there’s no addiction attached, I’m guessing.”

“There’s no addiction, but I still…”

“Want it.” Gabriel leans forward again, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze steady on Sam. “You think you can keep saying no, Sammy?”

Those eyes swirl black again, and the hunter _growls_. “Don’t call me that.” There is a moment, a pause for breath, and then back to agonized hazel. “ _Yes_. I can. I _will_ …I have to. I won’t let this own me, Gabriel.”

The archangel nods, his lips tilting upwards. Finally, he gives Sam what he’s been looking for. “I know,” he says, and he _does_. Sam’s proven his strength of will, if nothing else. He won’t say yes, won’t ever give Lucifer the satisfaction.

Sam’s eyes are relieved, and grateful. “You believe me?”

A huff of laughter escapes Gabriel. “Worse. I believe _in_ you. You’ve got a cast-iron will, kid, and I didn’t expect that. My brother’s not getting past it. No one could. I don’t know what that means for the world, but I guess we’re all gonna find out one way or another.”

Sam flushes a little, looking down, before he grimaces. “I just…I don’t know how to handle this. And Dean has his own problems, and Cas is no help…”

“What do you want from me, Sam?” Because guessing clearly isn’t going to get him anywhere.

“This…thing, in me…it won’t get me to give in, nothing can do that. But it’s changing me, and I… I don’t want it to. But unless I have something to keep it grounded, or keep _me_ grounded…it’s going to.” He looks back up, shadows swirling in his gaze. “Isn’t it?”

Gabriel shrugs. “Probably. It won’t turn you into a monster unless you let it, but yeah, of course something that dark is gonna change you some.” Sam’s gaze stays focused, and Gabriel’s eyes narrow. “You can’t be serious.”

“Gabriel…”

“You want _me_ to be your…grounding force, or whatever?”

“You can control me, keep me from wanting that power.” Sam swallows again. “You dominate me, keep it submissive, and it won’t take over.”

The archangel is incredulous, amused, and aroused, by turns. “You’re serious.”

Those eyes shift again, and Sam shudders, forces the inky blackness away. “I’ve never been _more_ serious.”

Gabriel’s eyes rake over him, and that same craving he first felt back in Famine’s presence returns. His lips curve again into a smirk. “Oh, this is going to be _fun_.”

Sam’s eyes go dark with something decidedly not demonic on origin, and Gabriel snaps his fingers, taking them away from the crowded diner and to somewhere more appropriate for what he has in mind right now.

-  



End file.
